


solace

by astronomii



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, FE: Sacred Stones Spoilers, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lyon-centric, One Shot, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-21 11:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17641718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astronomii/pseuds/astronomii
Summary: In which Lyon realizes he has and always will be a coward.





	solace

Lyon wakes up with a head full of cotton in a room he doesn't recognize. Surely, he must be dead. He had to be. A noise startles him, and his eyes instinctively dart towards the sound. A woman with pink hair tied up in two pigtails practically skips into the room, and her entire demeanor brightens up once she sees him. She spins so quickly on her heel that she's out the door just as quickly as she had entered.  
  
"Summoner!" Lyon hears her call. "He's awake now!"  
  
"That's a relief," another voice replies. "Thank you for everything, Serra."  
  
"I know, I know!" There's loud, boisterous laughter that follows before the girl hurriedly speaks again. "But you owe me for my services. Ta-ta!"  
  
There's fast, fading footsteps initially, before quieter ones pad into his room. He doesn't have a good vantage point from where he's laying, but he catches a figure with a white cloak patterned with gold step inside. They pull up a chair and sit beside his bedside. Lyon doesn't recognize them at all. No matter how much he tries he can't seem to place where he has met them. Perhaps he was really dead and this was purgatory.  
  
"Are you alright? I'm terribly sorry about what happened. Nino apologizes, she feels guilty about having to knock you out with her spell."  
  
There's nothing but confusion on his face, and he's sure they see it too.  
  
"The green-haired mage," they elaborate.  
  
There's another heavy silence before Lyon slowly pieces everything together. His mind puts a name to a face, and he remembers the young girl whose hands trembled every time she cast a spell. Before that, he remembered darkness. Then he's surrounded by enemies. He vaguely remembers them too, the summoner who stood in the back giving orders. It was like an elaborate game of chess, and he had lost. Checkmate. Now, he was here; wherever here really was.  
  
"You must be tired," they say, standing up as they push the chair back to where it had originally belonged. "Please, rest. We can continue this discussion tomorrow."  
  
They smile beneath the hood obscuring the upper half of their face before they make their leave, shutting the door quietly behind them. He wasn't actually tired, but they had left him alone all the same. Lyon doesn't say a word as the silence slowly seeps in. His memory is hazy at best, and he tries his best to recollect his thoughts to no avail; it's almost like trying to grasp thin trials of smoke already fizzling out into nothing but thin air.  
  
Closing his eyes, Lyon's mind is restless, but he tries his best to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Their name is Kiran.  
  
He hears it around quite often, it's almost always on the tongues of all the other heroes around him. He also finds out that he's in the Kingdom of Askr, and they're currently at war with the Embla Empire. The medics are all lively and chatty, often talking about the battles that occurred as they attempted to keep note of all the heroes who were injured. Lyon chastises them all in his mind. He was an enemy; they shouldn't be talking so easily in his presence.  
  
( _He tries asking them about this once. A blond woman with a bright demeanor and pigtails, similar to the pink-haired woman from before, answers his question without missing a beat._  
  
_"Kiran says you're one of us now. So we're helping you."_  
  
_"'Us'?" he echoes._  
  
_"Mhmm! Believe it or not, everyone here is a hero. Pretty neat, right?"_ )  
  
Heroes. He finds it humorous how that title was given to him of all people. He was no hero. He has hurt people, more than he could count. He's lied, cheated, stole, and hurt all those who once placed their trust in him.  
  
His heart aches, but he crushes the emotion as quickly as it comes. He doesn't deserve to feel guilty, he's done everything to deserve this after all. Ephraim, Eirika; both of them had a reason to hate them. However, when he closes his eyes sometimes there's a flash of memory, something in the back of his mind completely elapses, and he remembers facing off against Ephraim and Eirika one final time. There's no malice in their gazes, only grief. That revelation hurts more than any wound he's received.  
  
It's been a few weeks since he's been rescued, per se, and he's finally been well enough to transfer from the medical ward to his own room. It takes longer for him to recover, and Lyon blames it on his weak constitution. But he now has his own room regardless, and something about the absence of sound unsettles him. For the first time in a long time, his thoughts are his own. Fomortiis is no longer present, and he no longer feels the Demon King's dark presence wrap around his mind.  
  
That fact should relieve him, but Lyon only feels dread. It's quiet, too quiet.  
  
( _He's scared, he realized. He's come to terms that everything that had happened was his own doing, and the thought terrified him. It was easier when Fomortiis was around because he finally had something to blame other than himself. The truth is a lot easier to accept when the blame is on someone else._ )  
  
Currently, it's the middle of the night. Kiran hasn't checked up on him since their first confrontation, and Lyon feels undeniably relieved at this. He needed time to think. Ever since switching his rooms, he's rarely left it, not even to eat. He finds himself wishing he was back in the medical ward, then he would hear something other than stillness. He hates his room; it's the only place in the entire castle where the silence was just as loud.  
  
It's almost midnight, and Lyon highly doubts anyone is awake at this time besides the guards on patrol. Without even thinking, he slips out of his room and closes the door behind him.  
  
It's dark outside. The halls are only illuminated by small torches that flickered threateningly in the wind, as if the slightest breeze would put them out. His boots make small thuds against the stone floors, and the chill gets to him, despite the many layers of warmth his clothes provide. He sees a figure up ahead. It's Kiran, that white and gold cloak is undeniably their's. Quickly as he can, he turns around to leave, but he's caught.  
  
"Prince Lyon?" Their hushed whispers carries itself through the air. "Is that you? Heavens, you scared me."  
  
His shoulders tense immediately and he wonders just how far it will take to make it to his room before Kiran catches up to him. In his state of fight or flight, a soft touch on his arm startles him and he practically jumps out of his skin. It's embarrassing really, but the foreign feeling it replaced with something akin to annoyance. He doesn't let it show however, and he puts on a placid expression instead.  
  
( _Lyon wants to tell himself he's an honest person, but all the lying he's done to himself and his friends proves him otherwise. He's some so far destroying the trust placed in him by others, why bother to change?_ )  
  
"Yes, Kiran?" He hopes his voice sounds as level as he perceives it to be, and he hopes Kiran wouldn't press him too much.  
  
There's a long pause - as if Kiran's thinking - before they look up. He still can't see their eyes, but he can tell they're not the slightest bit worried as a small smile traces their lips. They're naive; Kiran puts too much easy trust in people. Though, Lyon reminds himself that used to be him as well before he changed.  
  
"Can't sleep?" They say instead, defying all possible expectations Lyon had of them previously.  
  
"Hmm." A noncommittal hum escapes him before he lips quirk up in a wry smile. "Something like that."  
  
"I'm going to get some tea, care to join me?"  
  
The question is phrased more as a statement than an actual question, and he had an inkling of a feeling Kiran wouldn't take a rejection as an answer. Lyon wordlessly nods and follows them along. He feels cracks already growing on his shattering mask, spider-webbing lines spreading and decorating the entire exterior. It's an uncomfortable feeling. He feels vulnerable and weak, pitifully so. Lyon comes to notice he's exactly back where he's started.  
  
Kiran leads him to the kitchen and it's pitch black. Lyon takes smaller steps in order not to falter and trip. He can hardly see two feet in front of him, and he relies on the shimmering white of Kiran's cloak to guide him through until he manages to sit himself down on a stable chair. Curiously, he wonders if Kiran was going to light a candle of sorts when the clattering of cups proved his point otherwise. Kiran moves fluidly in the dark, as if they were a fish weaving through water. The darkness doesn't seem to bother them, and they go to making the tea in the complete darkness as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary.  
  
A match strikes and a small fire lights up the kitchen. There's nothing but the calming sound of boiling water, and the time gives Lyon's eyes a chance to adjust to the rest of the room. The kitchen's smaller than he thought it was now that there was some form of light. The corners were still relatively shadowed, and he could just barely trace the outlines of cabinets on the walls. Kiran stands to slightly to the side, their face angled away from the flame. How peculiar.  
  
As if catching Lyon's curious gaze, they turn to him instead. Their smile wavers slightly.  
  
"Sorry about the absence of light," they admit sheepishly. "My eyes are fairly sensitive, which explains the, um, cloak that I wear at all times. It's nothing personal, I promise."  
  
Lyon didn't plan on saying anything, but a reassurance tumbles from his mouth before he can stop himself.  
  
"It's fine."  
  
Their smile straightens out.  
  
"Thank you for understanding."  
  
( _Lyon doesn't know why they thanked him. He has done nothing to deserve thanks. The sincerity in their words made him feel sick, and he couldn't help but think the words were said to mock him, as he couldn't help but think they sounded patronizing._ )  
  
The tea is finished and a small teacup is placed in front of his. It's aromatic - it smells vaguely like berries and cinnamon - and Lyon takes a curious sip. The warmth is inviting, and he finds himself finishing the cup before he's realized he's set an empty cup on the counter. The stranger thing he tries to wrap his mind around is the fact that the tea makes him feel more awake than before.  
  
Kiran pours Lyon another cup, before taking a seat beside him with a cup of their own. Despite not being able to see their eyes, Lyon feels himself thinking that they would be twinkling with nothing but pure mischief.  
  
"Let's chat, Prince Lyon."  
  
Lyon, finding no other reason to deny their advances, takes another sip of his tea.

 

* * *

 

He thought the one time he happened to unfortunately stumble into Kiran in the middle of the night would be the last time he's seen of them. However, it seems that fate had other plans, and late night rendezvous to the kitchen for tea became a weekly occurrence. Lyon always thought Kiran would be more quiet or reclusive, but he's quickly proven wrong by the fact they absolutely love to talk. He understands their futile efforts to get him to open up, but he, equally as stubborn, reflects their personal questions.  
  
( _He hates pity. It reminds him how pathetically weak he really is. He was nothing but a coward, hiding behind the overwhelming power of Fomortiis to make himself seem strong._ )  
  
Lyon drinks his tea, taking note how this particular blend tastes like lemon and ginger. Kiran finished their tea earlier than he did this time, and they lay their head down on the counter within their arms. When they speak again, their words are muffled, but they seem clearer than anything he's heard all week.  
  
"Ephraim and Eirika worry about you, did you know? They want to see you."  
  
An ugly feeling crawls into Lyon's chest. It's guilt, he registers. The teacup in his grasp threatens to shatter with how hard he's holding it. Setting the cup down, more forcefully than intended, Lyon straightens himself out. His entire demeanor is deteriorating. Everything he spent so long to fabricate was slowly slipping out of his hands like sand between his fingers. He takes a deep breathe, breathing out sharply through his mouth.  
  
"...I do not wish to see them."  
  
"I figured just as much, so I told them you need time."  
  
Kiran says that, but Lyon didn't need time. He knows he doesn't need time. This isn't something that a little bit of thinking and pretty words could fix. He doesn't think any amount of time would be able to prepare him for meeting his former friends once again. Their reasons for wanting to meet him were absurd enough as it stands; he never thought they would even think about him after his betrayal.  
  
( _Those are all lies, of course. Lyon tries, and tries even harder, to reconstruct everything he knows about his friends. Despite all that, he always finds himself coming to the conclusion that his friends never hated him._ )  
  
"Please tell them to not worry about me."  
  
"You're lying," Kiran interjects suddenly, and there's a loud bang that Lyon only realizes was their hands slamming down on the table.  
  
He turns to them only to find their hood is down, the bunched of fabric settling by their shoulders. Lyon realizes just how exhausted they seem, dark rings line their eyes. Everything about their entire disposition looks hollow, haunted. However, their eyes remain stern as they stared into him. There's a frown deeply set in their face, and their brows remained furrowed as if they were trying to pick apart Lyon's character piece by piece.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"You're lying," they reiterate. "You're scared."  
  
"No, I'm not," he quips, before biting his tongue to stop himself from bursting.  
  
The words he says don't correlate with his heart, and he knows this. Kiran's eyes soften, while Lyon's only harden.  
  
"I'm not sure what happened between you three, and I'm in no place to make assumptions," Kiran says gently, as if scolding a child. "But your friends truly care about you. More so than you may think."  
  
They stand up, leaving earlier than him for the first time since these nightly visits started to occur. "Please take some time to think this over, at least. And give me your answer whenever you're ready."  
  
Kiran leaves Lyon to himself and his thoughts. Lyon is scared, not that he'll ever admit it to them. Finishing his tea in silence, Lyon takes the time to mull over their words. If he can't even forgive himself, what makes Kiran think they can forgive him?

 

* * *

 

He avoids Kiran at all costs. Between training, meals, and late night walks, Lyon has tried to limit these activities as much as possible so that he's back at the start when he barely left the room to do anything. Sleeping doesn't come easy, and he wishes he had someone to talk to again. Even if that someone was Kiran, who always seemed too eager to pry into his business.  
  
The most recent nightmare he has seems just so real. It's shocking how much things seemed to change in such a short time. Back then, he had no real remorse for his actions, but seeing his actions replayed like a broken record in his dreams only fueled his disgust with himself. He was weak-hearted, a coward.  
  
( _"Tell me, Ephraim: do I look like I’ve grown stronger? The last time we dueled, I was too weak to test you. Why, I was so weak, I even lost to Eirika..."_ )  
  
Lyon's restless, his hands tremble and his feet nervously tap rhythms on the wood floors of his room. Before he knows what he's doing, Lyon grabs a candle from his desk and leaves his room behind him. He doesn't even know where he's going, but he lets his feet take him wherever they seemed to wander. He's been acting more impulsively these days, and it doesn't suit him. Acting on impulse was always Ephraim's thing. Lyon was calculative, never doing anything where the risk outweighs the reward.  
  
( _"I’ve sacrificed the lives of many good people. I’ve committed many unforgivable sins. The caring heart that I once possessed died long ago... And I’ve grown stronger because of it. I’ve grown strong enough to defeat even you, Ephraim."_  
  
_"...No, you haven’t. You’re still no match for me. You were never one for combat. It’s not in you. You should never have chosen this path... Here I come, Lyon."_ )  
  
Kiran changed him, slowly and subtly. Without realizing it, Lyon can hardly recognize himself as a person anymore. He wasn't the gentle prince who was friends with Ephraim and Eirika, nor was he the Demon King. He was just Lyon.  
  
( _It was him. It's always been him. Lyon was lucid during the entire battle. He was aware of every single one of his actions, but his friends still pinned the blame on Fomortiis. The insecurities he's always had, all his spite, his bitterness, his envy, they never blamed it on him._ )  
  
He can barely see where he's going as he walks, and soon Lyon stops in front of a door he's unfamiliar with. There's light coming from the inside that seems to filter out through the crack underneath the door. He seems almost hesitant at first, before he raised his hand to knock. Each tap seemed to echo within every fiber of his being, and it seems like ages have passed before the door finally clicks open and Kiran comes stumbling out, slightly dazed as they tried to fix the hood in their head. Lyon peers into the room behind Kiran and observes that it's almost exactly the same as his. Papers littered the floors and dusty books stacked as high as mountains on their desk.  
  
"What do you-oh." Kiran's voice, irritated at first, softens the moment they realize who's standing in front of them. "Prince Lyon. Please, come inside. Sorry for my tone. It's... late."  
  
Lyon steps inside without another word exchanged as Kiran glances out into the hallway before closing the door behind them. They pull the hood off their head, wincing as they happened to glance at the candle on their desk and in Lyon's hands, before smoothing out their hair. Paying special attention to glance at his face instead of the bright wick of flame in his hands, Kiran speaks.  
  
"Is there anything I can help you with, Prince Lyon?"  
  
( _As Ephraim stated, he truly was no match for his former friend. Lyon feels pain, more than anything he's known before. Blood spills from his lips, staining the mossy cobble beneath him. His legs feel weak, as if unable to support his weight anymore, and he collapses only to have Eirika catch him in her arms. He expects hate to be the only sight that greets him, but his heart aches at the guilt seeping into their features._  
  
_It's raining, and he can barely register the fact that Eirika's crying. Tears stream down her face, blending into the falling rain. Ephraim stands in complete disbelief. His spear, Siegmund, is coated in red. Lyon knows it's his blood that decorates the sacred weapon._  
  
_His vision is fading quickly, and the warmth that he once held turns cold as an icy feeling creeps up his spine. Breathing becomes a struggle, as he slowly turned to face the two friends that meant the most to him. He doesn't have the strength to apologize, so he chooses to squeeze Eirika's hand in his own. There's no comfort in the gesture, but he feels such immense relief when she squeezes back._ )  
  
"Can we talk?"  
  
( _The darkness creeping in his sight causes everything to fade, but he ingrains Eirika and Ephraim's face to memory even as his consciousness is slipping. However, just as quickly as everything darkens, light slowly returns to him._  
  
_He's standing in front of a small army now. There's a green-haired girl holding a equally green tome in her hands, a sword-wielding young man with fiery red hair, a blue-haired singer, and a bow-wielding green-haired lady on a horse. Behind them was a lone figure with a white and gold cloak._  
  
_The ruins of Fomortiis are gone and so are his wounds. Ephraim and Eirika are nowhere in sight, but Lyon supposes it's better this way. The presence of Fomortiis is gone is the first thing he notices. However, he's spent so long acting on his hate and his fears that he couldn't help but think it wouldn't hurt to pretend just a little more._  
  
_"I am the Demon King..." Lyon announces. "I know nothing of human frailty. I am supreme..."_ )  
  
"Of course," Kiran smiles. "We can talk about anything."  
  
Lyon takes a seat in the chair while Kiran props themself up on the desk, sweeping aside extra papers to make room. Talking, Lyon notices, comes a lot easier than he originally thinks. His walls are crumbling, and, before he knows it, he's telling Kiran everything from the beginning. His mind is feebly protesting at him to stop, but the weight on his chest loosens with ever word he says, so he continues to tell the story. Everything unravels before his eyes, but the relief is so comforting that Lyon just doesn't want this to end.  
  
Kiran politely nods and follows along, they seemed especially intent on focusing at ever little expression Lyon makes throughout his telling. When he finally stops talking, Kiran has an unreadable expression on their face. Their eyes, however, tell a different story. There's a certain resolution to their steely gaze, and Lyon seems to get lost in their depths.  
  
A blanket of silence fell over the two of them, and Lyon notices the way he's changed. Because, for the first time, he welcomes the silence as solitude from all the horrible things he's done. Kiran chooses not to say anything and, instead, they pull him into a tight hug. The gesture seemed to say more than words ever could, and Lyon feels just a tiny bit braver than he was before.  
  
The tiny shard of courage makes him feel like he can conquer anything, and Lyon makes up his mind to face his fears.

 

* * *

 

Kiran promises to meet up with Lyon during lunchtime, which was the only reason why he stood near the doors of the dining hall. The hall is massive as it is noisy, Lyon notes. Heroes from all different realms are gathered together and enjoying their meals as if they have been together their entire lives. Such must be the beauty of the bonds they all shared through tough times.  
  
Lyon glances up at the sudden sound of someone running. Hurried footsteps echo from the end of the hall, and Kiran stumbles along clumsily muttering apologies as quickly as they could come up with them through their quickened breaths.  
  
"I'm sorry, I overslept!"  
  
Lyon notices their state of disarray with a slightly amused expression dancing on his features. Their robes were in complete disorder and their boots remained unzipped and threateningly close to sliding off their feet. Their hood is back up, which means that Lyon no longer gets to look at their face, but he understands enough that it really isn't his place to decide whether or not Kiran needed to wear their cloak.  
  
"You needn't rush for me, Summoner." Lyon reprimands softly.  
  
He says this, but there's an unrecognizable feeling blooming in his chest at Kiran's consideration and care for his being. It feels nice, he supposes, and it's not entirely unwelcome. Lyon loses himself to his thoughts for a moment, and Kiran seems to remind him of Eirika in a way. While he knows and understands they're two different people, his heart seems to twist at the familiarity in their mannerisms.  
  
"Yes," Kiran begrudgingly admits, "but this is important. As a friend, I want to be there for you."  
  
"Friend?" The word feels foreign on his tongue, and he doesn't remember how much he seems to miss the word until it was finally said.  
  
"We're friends, are we not?" Kiran further elaborates. "And friends support their friends no matter what."  
  
The warm feeling is back, and Lyon fights the urge to flush red in embarrassment. Despite his attempts, pink stains his cheeks and the tips of his ears.  
  
"Yes... we are friends." Lyon smiles; it's his first real smile since he's been summoned. "Thank you, for being my friend, Summoner."  
  
"Now you're just being all sentimental. And feel free to call me Kiran, not Summoner."  
  
"Thank you, Kiran."  
  
"I told you, you're being sentimental. Oh, whatever. Let's go meet with Ephraim and Eirika. I'm sure they would love to see you."  
  
Kiran grabs him by the hand and together they walk into the dining hall. True to their word, Ephraim and Eirika are waiting for him. Lyon has a million things he wants to say, but all his words fall short when Ephraim and Eirika practically run across the room towards him. Without as much as another word of explanation, Lyon is pulled into a hug by his friends, while Kiran lets him go and slips away into the crowd of heroes.  
  
There's a certain fluttery feeling of nervousness tickling his chest, but he sees the happiness in his friends gazes at the fact he's back, and everything he was worried about seems to vanish. Somewhere in the crowd, Lyon catches Kiran's smile as they mouth a congratulations before disappearing once more.

When they finally settled down enough to talk, Lyon carefully explains his story to Ephraim and Eirika. Their expressions never change. When he's finished, they pull him tight into another hug and apologize. He wants to tell them it wasn't their fault, but they only hug him tighter. He purposefully forgets to mention the fact that he died because he doesn't want to burden them further. 

Things haven't been completely solved, but Lyon thinks that this might just be alright. 

 

* * *

 

After everything, Lyon realizes that not a dull day goes by. Ephraim and Eirika insist on spending time with him whenever they could. Initially, he had protested against it, but Lyon soon comes to terms with the fact that his friends were just as stubborn as he was. In the mornings, the three of them trained together. While Lyon recognizes he'll never have the same skill with the sword as either of the twins, he accepts that he's proficient in his own ways. 

Lyon also notices that spending time with Kiran became a normal occurrence.

Besides occasional tea chats in the middle of the night, Kiran sought him out in order to discuss battle tactics. He truly has no reason to disagree, so he accepts and tags along. The only time he feels really powerless is when Kiran goes into battle with other heroes that aren't him. Lyon hates feeling useless, he wanted to be as useful as he could be. Stress turns him inside out and evident anxiety is present on his face no matter how many times Ephraim and Eirika try to reassure him. However, his worries dissipate when Kiran comes back with news that his strategies had worked. 

As all the other heroes crowd around Kiran with their congratulations, Eirika sends Lyon a knowing smile when she notices he's the one who seems to be cheering the most. 

( _Oh, his heart seems to acknowledge before his mind does, he likes Kiran._

 _These are silly, fleeting feelings though. He would come to forget about them with time, or time would find a way to slowly patch up his bleeding heart. He finds no comfort in the realization because he knows he'll only get hurt in the end._ )

Ephraim, as forward as ever, pulls Kiran into a hug that they accept all the same. Lyon ignores the way his chest seemed to constrict in pain. 

 

* * *

 

The days soon give in to weeks and months.

Before Lyon knows it, the Kingdom of Askr is finally at peace. The battle with Embla is won, followed by the victory over the Flame Kingdom Múspell, and many other battles after, until Askr is finally safe and secure enough for everyone else to go home. Home. Lyon feels uncertainty with the word, and he knows that Kiran knows too.

If he were to return home, would things go back to the way they once were?

Would he be fated to die?

After all, he's met his time back in the version of the world he has come from. Ephraim and Eirika would return to their realms respectively, and they would eventually forget about the time they spent at Askr. Forgetting and returning to the darkness was what Lyon came to dread. He didn't want to forget. He's spent so long trying to find a reason to accept himself for all the things he's done, and when he finally found his reason to belong it was going to be taken away again. 

He feels his mind wander, moving to the worst possible scenarios. Greatly perturbed, Lyon finds himself finding the person he's come to trust the most. 

Kiran's room is on the other side of the castle, the farthest away from his own room. He realizes this after walking the same, long path to their room every night to just talk about mundane things. Another thing he notices is the fact that Kiran always has their door closed as a way of maintaining their privacy without disturbing any others. Which is why, when Lyon goes to knock on their door only to realize it was already open, his stomach twists into knots. 

"So, you're returning home with all the others tomorrow?" Lyon hears Ephraim's voice, firm and to the point. However, Lyon detects a certain sadness that came with his friend's words. 

"Yes," Kiran's voice follows after. "As should you and your sister."

Lyon doesn't like the idea of eavesdropping, but he can't seem to find the courage to leave. His feet are rooted into place; his hand was still raised mid-knock. 

"Are you sure you don't want to return to Renais, with me?"

"Dear Ephraim," Kiran seems to sigh. "You know a world full of war doesn't suit me."

"But you're a marvelous tactician and charming in your own right, I'm positive the people wouldn't mind you ruling by my side."

( _Somehow, someway, he's always known. Lyon prides himself on being observant, but he can't help but think it's a curse that hurts himself more than it hurts others. Between Ephraim and Kiran's shared moments and whispers filled with laughs, Lyon always knew he was never first in their heart. But his heart still aches all the same._ )

Lyon feels his arm go slack as he reminds himself to breathe. There's a pause, as if Kiran is debating on what to say in response. He doesn't stick around long enough to hear an answer though. Instead, Lyon turns around and flees back to his room without even bothering to turn around to see if they heard or not. 

 

* * *

 

Morning comes a lot slower for him than it usually does, as it always seemed to do whenever he found himself unable to sleep. Part of him wanted to seek consolation from Kiran, but the anxiety he held kept him trapped in his room. Thoughts seemed to swirl around his mind.

Just how long had he turned blind eye to what was happening before him?

How long had he purposefully shut out his feelings?

Had he acted sooner, would Kiran have chosen him instead?

There were so many questions he simply didn't have the answers to. Frustration ate away at him, and Lyon tried to convince himself that he was alright with all of this. He was the person who least deserved Kiran. After all, he's caused so much pain that he knew he didn't deserve happiness himself. He knew that. It's just that every time Kiran looked at him, truly looked at him, like he was an actual person, a friend even; Lyon felt something unmeasurably close to happiness bloom. 

Lyon was always a coward. He's known this. He was envious of those he called his friends, and Fomortiis took these emotions he's had and simply given him a reason to act upon them. When things got too difficult for him to handle, Lyon would hide behind power and lies. 

But Kiran saw past all of this. They saw Lyon for who he really was, and that was probably the reason he fell for them in the first place. It was their ability to see the good in people, despite everything they have done. Their gift of immeasurable forgiveness was spell more powerful than anything he could conjure.

To him, Kiran was the sun. And, even if it's just for a little while longer, Lyon hopes he can bask in their warmth. 

 

* * *

 

The castle is alive with chatter as heroes line up to return home.

Lyon finds Kiran in the center of the plaza, opening up various portals using the sacred relic, Breidablik. They seem as they had always been as they wish final farewells to all those who fought alongside them. Both Ephraim and Eirika linger around Kiran, but Lyon can't even bear to look at the prince of Renais in fear that he would see right through him. 

Most of the heroes have already been sent home by the time Lyon finally gathered up the nerve to meet everyone else. A few heroes lingered about, still bidding their best wishes to heroes from other worlds that they had become acquainted with. The prince of Askr and general Anna watch from the side, their expressions bittersweet as Kiran personally sends everyone home. 

Their numbers eventually dwindle down until it's just Kiran, Ephraim, Eirika, and himself left. 

There's an uncomfortable silence as Ephraim and Kiran quietly exchange their goodbyes amongst themselves. There's a frown on Ephraim's usually stoic face, and Eirika watches the exchange with sympathy. Kiran pulls Ephraim into a hug, and Lyon could only watch as Ephraim returned the hug with equal vigor. When the two finally pull apart, there's tears that Kiran tries to rapidly blink away to no avail before they reluctantly open a gateway home. 

Ephraim seems hesitant to leave at first, but he and Kiran share a knowing gaze before he disappears into the light. Eirika walks to follow her brother but stops short when she realizes that Lyon made no effort to move. 

"Lyon, are you coming? We can fix everything together and the three of us could return things to the way they once were."

There's hope in Eirika's voice, but Lyon knows it simply isn't that easy. Wounds may close, but scars last forever. 

"I'll follow later," he lies. "I just want to talk to Kiran one more time."

Eirika smiles knowingly, before turning herself and walking into the portal. Lyon tries to recall his friends' smiles to memory before the portal shut itself behind the princess. Then it left just him and Kiran. 

Lyon glances over at Kiran, who was still trying to wipe away the tears that had fallen. Kiran, after noticing his presence, glances up. 

"Why didn't you return with them?" The question is sharp, accusatory. Pain is evident in their voice, no matter how hard they try to hide it. 

"You and I both know that's not my home," Lyon reminds gently, using a tone of voice so soft he's almost positive Kiran doesn't hear him. 

But they do hear. Eyes wide with panic and fear, they snap up to meet his. 

"You can't possibly mean-" Kiran gasps, their hands shoot up to grab him by the arms as if to reassure themself that he's still here, that he's still alive. "You can't return to your world, Lyon. I forbid it; you'll die."

"Perhaps, but I don't fear death."

He's lying, and even Kiran can tell. 

"You can't just run away like that," Kiran snaps. "You always take the easy way out of things. When you're scared, you run. You need to stop running. You've done so much to redeem yourself, you've tried so hard to make up for your mistakes. You can't just throw it all away like that."

In the midst of their tirade, Kiran's tears run anew. Lyon feels a pang at the realization that he had caused them pain, but he also realized that he wasn't running away anymore. He had managed to speak to his friends once more, something he could only dream about doing, and that was enough for him to be content with. Now, he just had to return home - wherever that may be - and face his final judgement. 

Lyon clasps their trembling hands in his own, stilling them in their movements. 

"Kiran, I do not deserve your tears." Lyon's expression never wavers as he says this, yet his words only cause Kiran is sob louder. "I don't intend to run away anymore. You've given me the strength to face everything, even if it's harsh. That is why, I must return even if I don't know what's to come."

Slowly, as much as he allows himself to give in, he pulls Kiran into a soothing hug. They almost completely collapse in his arms, gripping at his sleeves in order to stay upright. He feels their tears slowly seep through his robes, but he doesn't mind. Instead, Lyon only wraps around them tighter, his fingers lightly smoothing out the knots in their hair. 

"Meeting you made me a braver person," he admits. "Before, I was a coward: always running, always hiding. I was jealous of Ephraim because he's strong, stronger than I will ever be, and that envy I carried allowed me to fall prey to Fomortiis. When I met you, I was also envious. You were also strong, and, despite not having any prior tactical knowledge or battle experience, you still carried yourself as you paved the way for victory. You never relied on any other spells or weapons, the true power you had was always within yourself."

Everything he said was true. Lyon knows that now he has a reason not to lie. He could be as truthful as he wanted to be without having to deal with the repercussions. Kiran seems to still during his entire confession, and they go completely limp in his arms. Lyon, as if fueled by nothing but adrenaline, does the most fearless thing he's done in his entire life.

Cupping Kiran's face gingerly in his hands, Lyon presses a chaste kiss on their forehead. The gesture is short, fleeting, but sweet regardless. His entire face is warm, the fluttery feeling in his chest is back, and he realizes he's probably never been happier in his life. Before giving Kiran any explanation, Lyon smiles.

"Please don't look at me so, Kiran. I want to see you smile. Always."

And they smile. It's small, but the kindness is still there. Lyon knows that this is the last time he'll see Kiran, but he says nothing more and savors the comfort of their embrace. 

( _I love you, is what he wants to say. But he'll keep his feelings hidden one last time._ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyon has and always will be my favorite character from fe sacred stones and he makes me bawl my eyes out every time. i have no idea why i wrote this and i am terribly sorry. forgive me lyon for i have hurt you.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm actually crying i can't believe i hurt him like this. anyways, here's my take on lyon's character and i hope i did ok? i still feel like i made him ooc dammit. anyways, this is unedited word garbage that i absolutely had the need to write instead of doing my homework. why am i like this. this is rushed and i honestly might fix this later. 
> 
> personally, i've never played fe sacred stones myself but i watched a few playthroughs and i was completely enamoured with lyon. his character, his backstory, literally everything, made me cry. this is the lyon from ephraim's route in the game bc, wow, that hit me harder than a truck.


End file.
